Of Leaves of Gold and Petals Red: A Faery Tale
by Ithilwen of Himring
Summary: A Silmarillion-based adaptation of a classic Scottish folk ballad. Silmarillion-based.
1. A Walk in the Woods

This story is for Cirdan - Happy Birthday! Thanks go to Dwimordene, for suggesting the idea for this story, and to Deborah, for all sorts of reasons.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the characters, several of which are gratefully borrowed from Professor Tolkien, who would doubtless be bemused at this particular use of them!

****

Of Leaves of Gold and Petals Red: A Faery Tale 

By Ithilwen

****

Chapter 1 - A Walk in the Woods 

"I don't care what the locals say! It's too nice a day to stay inside, and anyway, I'm sick of working on this stupid project. 'The depiction of female sexuality in traditional European folk stories' - gah, could Professor Bautista have come up with a less interesting list of suggested topics for this paper if she'd tried? I'm in the mood for a hike, and I've never seen Carterhaugh Woods, so I'm going off explore them now, and that's all there is to it, Deborah. What's the point of going away to college if you never check out anything new?" Janet stood up and casually tossed the battered copy of "An Anthology of Classic Fairy Tales" onto the floor beside her desk, then determinedly walked over to the small (and very overfilled) closet she shared with her roommate, and began to sort through the garments. "Do you think I should take a jacket? I know it's almost October; if I were at home I wouldn't bother, but the weather here is so different from what I'm used to, I don't know whether I'll need one or not. Would you wear a jacket, Deborah?"

Deborah sighed softly, in recognition of defeat. _Typical freshman,_ she thought to herself. _I guess I was no different my first year, but still... _ "So you'll take my advice on clothing, just not on the advisability of hiking through Carterhaugh Woods in the first place. Yes, I'd definitely take along a jacket. Janet, I really wish you'd reconsider this whole thing. I grew up in this town -"

"Which is why I asked you about the jacket," Janet replied absently as she sorted through the clothes.

"And those woods have an unsavory reputation," Deborah continued doggedly. "People say they've seen all kinds of eerie things in them. Lots of people believe they're haunted."

"Oh, give me a break," Janet replied as she pulled the soft, apple-green Irish traveling cloak off its hanger. "Haunted? I suppose you'll be telling me the Blair Witch lives in there next. Don't tell me that after two years in college you still believe in ghosts!"

"Did I say I do?" Deborah replied. "No, I don't believe in ghosts. But I do believe in rapists. It's not smart to go off wandering off in those woods all by yourself, Janet, ghosts or no ghosts."

"Well, if no one goes into Carterhaugh Woods because they think they're haunted, then a rapist looking for someone to attack would hardly waste his time hanging out there, would he?" Doffing the cloak, Janet turned and smiled at her concerned roommate. "Look, I know the RA assigned you to be my official big sister as well as my roommate, and I appreciate your advice. But I'm not a child, and I can take care of myself, really. I'm just going to go for a brief walk to stretch my legs, and I promise I'll be back before it gets dark. If you're really that worried, why don't you come along? Surely the Blair Witch won't bother **two** girls walking in the woods!"

"I would take you up on that offer," Deborah replied, "but I simply can't afford to take the afternoon off today - my Physical Chemistry exam on Monday is going to be a killer, and I'm definitely not ready for it. Promise me you'll be careful, O.K.?"

"Oh, I promise," Janet laughed. "Don't worry - nothing is going to happen, except that I'm going to go for a nice, relaxing hike, and come back ready to wrestle with that stupid Folklore paper again. Walking though the golden woods in September - I just know I'll have a lovely time!"

* * * * * * *

__

How long has it been, he wondered, _since I've laid eyes on a maid - even a mortal one? Long years, certainly, so very long and lonely..._

How many Ages had passed since he'd first been ensnared, he no longer knew, for he had no way to mark the passing years. What a fool he'd been, defying the summons of Mandos in his rage against the Valar! Too angry to submit to their authority once more, unwilling to be confined to the bleak Halls of Awaiting, and thoroughly unrepentant, he'd ignored the Summons when it came. A mistake. _My last, and greatest, in a life that was filled with them,_ he thought sadly. For he'd forgotten to take the effects of his Oath into account until it was too late.

__

Let the Everlasting Darkness take me if I fail in my Oath, he'd called out to Ilúvatar in his grief-borne madness - and after his hröa had burned to ashes, the Darkness indeed came to claim him. He had been defiant at first, but She who had once bound the Black Foe himself in her webs quickly ensnared him with her net of foul power, and after that he was doomed.

He could not escape her now, for She'd forced his fëa into this cage she'd built for it, a hröa identical in every way to his lost one save that it was so laced with her venoms that his fëa could not depart from it no matter how hard he tried. Not that he tried at all, now, for the passing of the long Ages had painfully taught him the futility of that struggle. Nor could he flee physically, for the poisoned hröa he now wore could not bear the touch of light, be it sunlight or moonlight - even starlight burned faintly where it touched his skin, and he was certain that She could track him through the shadowy night in any case, following the ethereal taint his corrupted presence now left in its wake. He remained by her side without protest now, bound to the Darkness She had spun, where She could force him to couple with her to produce her monstrous offspring, and where he forged by day the fair jewels She demanded to feed her insatiable maw. The pain he experienced as he watched her devouring the beautiful works of his hands was far worse than any torments Mandos might have inflicted on him in judgement, he now knew, and this pain was destined to continue until the world's end, when he, along with his Queen and her other foul servants, would at last be swept into Nothingness.

And She knew that he was beaten - and so She permitted him to wander in the shadows near her dwelling place while She slept off her gluttonous feasts. And from the safety of the deep shadows he would watch his Silmaril rise to signal the approach of dawn, notwithstanding the fierce burning pain that its hallowed light caused his eyes, and remember a time when he had himself been pure enough to touch that crystalline fire, and mourn.

But tonight was different. He'd come to the glen, where he could briefly slip out from the gloomy forest to look up at the burning stars, only to find a young mortal woman wandering there - alone and apparently lost, for she kept looking about as if searching for something, her shoulder-length hair disheveled, a limp bundle of flowers cradled in her left arm and one deep red rose blossom tucked behind her ear. _A blond - not a redhead like my own lost Nerdanel,_ he noted, scowling briefly as he remembered the sharp pain that had marked the severing of their bond; for since there was no possibility of his ever being free to return to his wife, the Valar had permitted Nerdanel to dissolve their union. He was destined never to know any more of love...

Or was he?

__

No, I should not do it, he thought firmly, shocked by the sudden, unexpected thought. _It would be wrong; I should not even think of touching her... _But the sight of her golden tresses gleaming in the starlight brought back memories of his own lost, beloved wife, how her flaming hair had shined when she had danced before him, clothed only in the Treelight, and he suddenly found himself shivering with desire. To hold a woman in his arms again, to feel the silkiness of that hair under his hands, to breathe in the sweet fragrance of her breath while their lips touched softly... It would only be one night - but such a night of passion might lighten and sustain his poor spirit for many long Ages to come. And she was but a mortal; he knew mortals did not interweave their fëar into the unbreakable tie that knitted lovers of his own people together eternally. She would not be harmed by their joining. And she would surely be willing - oh, yes indeed, for were not mortals easy to beguile? Fallen he might be, but he remained an Elda; a simple mortal maid was no match for his will. Feeling an old, familiar fire beginning to build in his loins, he stepped out into the glade.

* * * * * * *

_How did I ever get so lost?_ Janet thought in despair. _I only stepped off the path for a few minutes!_ She looked around again half-heartedly, but nothing in the glade seemed familiar, and not a trace of a path was to be found. 

She'd meant to be careful, she really had - but the bright sunlight streaming though the golden autumn leaves arching overhead had sent her spirits soaring, and she'd skipped quickly along the faint trail she'd spotted leading into the trees, delighted to be away from her small, cramped dorm room at last and back in communion with nature. When she'd seen the daylilies blooming near a crumbling stone foundation just a short distance from the path she was following, she had unthinkingly left the rough, poorly-marked trail. Obviously the ruins of an old, abandoned house - and with an old, overgrown garden full of beautiful flowers just asking to be picked. _I'll bring some back to Deborah,_ Janet decided, _as a peace offering. A few flowers will certainly brighten up our dull old dorm room considerably!_ And so she set about harvesting a bouquet - daylilies, anemones, purple asters, even a few sprigs of goldenrod. And then she saw the old rose garden, half-hidden by the sapling trees, and she wandered over to it, walking happily between the overgrown and shrubby bushes, delighted to find a few late blooms still remaining on the plants. She stopped to sniff one voluptuous blossom after another, now and then stroking the silky petals between her fingers, before plucking a large, fragrant, velvety red rose to tuck into her hair. _Deborah will laugh when she sees me like this,_ Janet thought happily as she carefully tucked the flower into her hair, anchoring the prickly stem behind her ear, _but what does she know? That's a science major for you - absolutely no sense of romance!_ And then she looked up to admire the leaves once more - and to her shock saw the sky was growing dark; in the west, the vivid oranges and reds bespoke a setting sun_. I somehow lost all track of time! _she realized. _It will be after dark before I get back to the dorm; if I don't hurry, the cafeteria will be closed before I return._ _Time to take my flowers and leave._ And she turned back to find the trail - only to discover that she could no longer spot it in the rapidly fading light. She'd been stumbling around now for hours, frantically searching for the path, having lost all sense of direction as the daylight waned. When she first staggered into this clearing, her hopes had lifted at the thought that at least she'd managed to find the site of the old house again, if not the trail, and she now knew where she was - but as she'd looked around she saw no sign of the crumbling foundation or the disheveled garden, and she realized sadly that she was still lost. Exhausted and on the verge of tears, and more frightened than she wanted to admit to herself, she let her pitiful bouquet drop from her arm and sank down beside it on the grass. 

"And what brings so lovely a maiden alone into this dark place? Are you perhaps lost?" 

Janet sprang to her feet, heart pounding in panic, and turned towards the source of the sound. There, near the edge of the glade, peering out from under the inky shadows of the forest, stood a strange man_. How could I have failed to spot him earlier?_ she wondered, feeling a faint tendril of fear touch her flesh as he stepped completely out from under the lowering trees and walked slowly towards her. "No," she replied firmly, backing away slightly, "no, I'm not lost. Thank you very much for asking - but I'm fine."

"I do not believe that," the man replied quietly as he continued to approach. "I have watched you wandering for some time now. These woods are no place for a maid to roam alone, especially after dark. They are Her abode, and should you continue to stumble blindly about in the darkness you might well fall into one of her traps, and be forever lost. Let me escort you back to your path."

"You... You know where the path is?" Janet replied haltingly, still backing away; although her heart was racing, she found her eyes increasingly drawn towards this mysterious stranger. Tall he was, with hair as black as a crow's wing and clothes to match, and thin, but with a pale face that almost seemed to glow in the starlight, angular and yet beautiful, and intense, glittering grey eyes. There was a strange fire burning in those eyes, and for a brief moment Janet had a vision of herself as a moth, being pulled inexorably towards the light that shone out from that compelling gaze. For an instant, she considered looking away - but stopped instead, and allowed her own gaze to lock with his. Smiling faintly, the man stepped up to her and gently reached out to touch the rose nestled in her hair.

"So, you **are** lost, after all," he laughed softly, and Janet felt herself blush in shame. "I rather suspected as much - don't look away," he continued gently when she tried to drop her head in embarrassment at being caught in such a transparent lie. The stranger's voice was smooth, and deep as the night that surrounded them both, and held a subtle music nearly as fascinating to Janet's ears as his gaze was to her eyes. "You were being prudent - there is no shame in that. But your caution is quite unnecessary, and it will not lead you from these woods - only trust can accomplish that now. I mean you no harm - will you trust me to lead you to safety?" As he spoke, he slowly reached out to take her hand - and Janet felt a deep hunger slowly begin to awaken at his touch. She nodded wordlessly, unable to speak as the strange feelings washed over her. _What is happening to me? _she wondered as, hand still grasping his, she silently began to follow the man as he lead her into the woods.

She had no clear recollection of how long they walked together, the man softly singing in an unfamiliar tongue, she close beside him, her hand firmly grasping his, her mind drifting with the music. Then suddenly he stopped, and broke off the song - and Janet blinked, emerging from a mist, her mind her own once more, and saw that they were standing next to a crumbled stone wall. _The foundation of the house!_ she realized, elated_. He brought me back, just as he said he would. Now I can go home._

"Yes," the man spoke sadly, "now you can go home," and Janet was not surprised to learn that he'd somehow heard her thoughts. "I thought to take what I desired from you by guile," he continued, looking at her strangely, "but though you would have yielded gladly to my will in the end, to my surprise I have found I am not yet wholly corrupted. It seems a spark of light still lives within me that even She has not been able to extinguish. Go now - stay on the path, and do not stray!"

Janet looked at him again, this fey stranger still radiating power, but with sorrow now damping the light she'd seen before in his eyes. For the first time, she noticed how alien his face seemed - almost human, but... different, somehow. _Who are you?_ **_What_** are you? Surely not a man? she marveled as she studied his strange, pale countenance intently, still drawn to his gaze despite the pain she now saw reflected there. On sudden impulse, she reached up and plucked the rose from her hair, handing it to him as though the sweet fragrance might drive away this strange creature's despair. Almost mechanically he reached out and took it when she proffered it to him, and when her fingers brushed against his as he plucked the bloom from her grasp, she felt the deep, aching hunger welling up inside her again - and this time, her mind clear, she recognized it for what it was. "Perhaps I do not wish to leave yet," she whispered softly, letting her own longing shine forth as she gazed at him. _You're crazy!_ a dim voice sounded in her mind. _He's a complete stranger! And you've always said that you were going to wait until your wedding night! _But the faint protests from that tiny part of her brain seemed unimportant when set against the powerful longings she now felt, and she brushed them aside almost unthinkingly as she reached out to stroke his face.

The sorrow had left the strange man's eyes, to be replaced by a look of stunned surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked after a long moment of silence. She answered by reaching up to pull his head down, and he surrendered to her kiss; then, still embracing, they sank down together onto the dewy grass.

* * * * * * *

__

I told Deborah it's getting too cold to leave the window open, Janet thought groggily as she slowly awakened, shivering slightly. "Close the window," she murmured - then sat up, startled, when she opened her eyes to see golden leaves, and not the cheap ceiling tiles of her dorm room, floating over her head. As she sat up, she promptly became entangled in her travelling cloak, which she'd been wrapped up in, protecting her a little from the night air. After a moment's confusion, she suddenly remembered where she was_. I was hiking, and became lost in the woods, that's right,_ she thought. _And I dreamed I met a_ _Faery, and we..._ A deep blush stole across her face as she remembered the exact nature of that dream_. You need to control yourself better, Janet! Good girls don't do such things, _a little voice inside her head scolded. "Shut up, conscience," she said aloud. "It was only a dream - and a very nice one at that! Anyway, it's time to find that path and head back - Deborah's probably called Campus Security by now. If I don't get back soon, she'll probably try to roust the National Guard or something." She stood up, started to walk off and saw to her surprise that she'd taken her pants off during the night. _What the heck? I don't_ _remember needing to pee..._ She reached down to pull her pants back on - and stopped, shocked by the faint smear of blood she saw on her thighs.

__

That was no dream, she realized slowly. _I met a man - no, **not** a man, a Faery, and we... and we... I can't believe I actually did that! I could have been killed, or worse..._ She shivered, remembering the stories she'd studied in Dr. Bautista's Folklore class; hollow hills, strange glamours the Fey Folk used to enchain mortals to their will, a person awakening to discover that hundred years had passed overnight. Sobered, she quickly finished dressing and wasted no time returning to campus.

Janet found, to her initial relief, that a hundred years had **not** passed her by during her strange nocturnal interlude. It was Sunday morning; she had been gone overnight, and no longer - which meant she still had to write that dreadful paper for her Folklore class. _'The depiction of female sexuality in traditional European folk stories' - no thanks, I think I'll choose another topic after all,_ she decided when, that afternoon, she surrendered to the inevitable and began again to work on her assignment. Throwing her initial draft in the trash, she opened her anthology and slowly began to draw up an outline on the role of seventh sons in traditional folklore. _Thank goodness this class is half-over; only a few more weeks to go, and I can put this all out of my mind,_ she though as she began to work. _No one besides me will ever know about any of it, and soon it will be as though nothing had happened at all._

(To Be Continued)


	2. Truths and Consequences

This story is for Cirdan - Happy Birthday! Thanks go to Dwimordene, for suggesting the idea for this story, and to Deborah, for all sorts of reasons.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the characters, several of which are gratefully borrowed from Professor Tolkien, who would doubtless be bemused at this particular use of them!

****

Of Leaves of Gold and Petals Red: A Faery Tale 

By Ithilwen

****

Chapter 2 - Truths and Consequences

"No. It's not possible. Hardly anyone gets pregnant their first time - and besides, he wasn't even human!"

Janet stared at the white stick in her hand in disbelief. The blue cross in the center of the test area was still there, seeming to mock her. "Simple to Read!" the box had promised - and it was. There was no way to deny the results - according to the home test kit she'd purchased, she was most decidedly with child.

She still wasn't sure what impulse had prompted her to buy the thing in the first place. The recent bouts of nausea she'd been experiencing were easily attributed to the onset of the flu, and her periods had never been all that regular anyway, she was probably just late because of the stress of studying for her upcoming finals... Now, as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut in a last attempt at denial, she wished she'd never stopped by the drugstore. After a long moment, she finally opened her eyes again - still pregnant. In a sudden fit of anger, she swept up the content of the test kit and threw them into the trash, then stormed out of the bathroom back down the hall towards her dorm room. _Don't be foolish,_ Janet silently tried to tell herself, _you know damn well the test kit isn't what caused this, so not buying it wouldn't have changed a thing. You're pregnant - deal with it._

"But I can't deal with it," she whispered softly in reply. "I'm a freshman, a starving student - how am I supposed to support a baby on my own? How am I going to tell my parents - they'll be furious, Dad will say he raised me to be better than that, sleeping with someone before marriage, like a slut... And what about **my** future? Am I supposed to give up my dreams just for the sake of a baby? It's not fair!" she said, raising her voice as she burst into the room - only to stop in surprise when she saw Deborah sitting at her desk, reading.

"What's not fair?" her roommate asked, without looking up from her book.

__

No, you're not supposed to be here! "I thought you'd already left - don't you have a 7 AM class on Tuesdays?" Janet asked weakly.

"Usually - but when I got there, I found it was cancelled. Apparently, the prof got sick last night. Thought I might as well come back here and catch up on some studying, since my P Chem lab doesn't begin until 2:30." Deborah looked up for the first time; something in Janet's expression must have caught her attention, because she slowly straightened up and closed her book. "You look terrible. What's wrong, kiddo?" she asked quietly. "Talk to your big sis now."

"I'm pregnant," Janet replied. _There, the secret's out. It's real now._

"Are you sure?" Deborah asked softly; Janet nodded mutely in reply. "Oh, Janet - I'm so sorry," she replied, walking over to place her arms around her, and Janet finally broke down and sobbed.

"Have you decided what you're going to do about it?" Deborah asked when Janet finally regained control of herself.

"What's there to do?" Janet replied miserably. "I'm pregnant - I can't go back in time and undo what happened to me that night."

"No, but you don't have to stay pregnant if you don't want to," Deborah reminded her. "An abortion is expensive, but it's very safe, and probably the best -"

"No," Janet replied firmly. "No abortion. That's not an option."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm Catholic. All my life, I've believed that abortions are wrong. I'm not going to violate my beliefs now just because it would be convenient for me," Janet replied, crossing her arms defiantly.

"All right then, no abortion," Deborah said soothingly. "Then I guess you need to decide whether or not you're going to keep the baby - "

"I'm keeping the baby," Janet interrupted. "At least, I think I am."

"- and whether or not you want to have anything more to do with the father. He has to support the child, too, you know, and if you need to, you can take him to court to see to it that he does so. Unless..." Deborah paused for a moment, a strange look on her face, then continued on more gently. "That night you spent out in the woods... Janet, you weren't raped, were you?"

"No," she replied softly, remembering her lover's strange, shining eyes, the softness of his hair, the almost unbearable rush of pleasure she'd felt when at last they joined, flesh penetrating into flesh. "No - it was not rape."

"In that case, perhaps you'd better talk to the father before you decide anything. Assuming that you care about him at all, he has a right to know about this - and he damn well better take responsibility for his actions," Deborah concluded firmly. "This is his baby, too, Janet - don't think you have to take all the burden onto your own shoulders. He owes you child support, at the very least."

__

Child support! It was all she could do to keep from laughing aloud. _Faery gold that will turn to lead at sunrise, lumps of coal glamoured to look like diamonds... 'The Seelie Court hereby orders Mr. Faery to provide 500 moonbeams per month to the support of his changeling...'_ "I somehow don't think he's going to be able to help me much," she finally replied, giggling slightly.

Deborah just stared at her for a moment. _Stop it; she thinks you're going mad!_ Janet told herself firmly. "Well, talk to him anyway," Deborah finally continued, "you may be surprised by what he'll say. And I'm here, if you need me. Where are you going?" she asked, as Janet doffed the travelling cloak she'd worn on that fateful hike.

"I've decided to take your advice, big sis - I'm going to talk to my baby's father."

* * * * * * * 

Nearly all of the leaves had fallen from the trees, carpeting the grass in a golden mantle, and only a few colorful orange hips were left clinging to the tattered rosebushes. _No roses; I guess even Faery gardens have frosts. Everything appears so changed, so ordinary - I can hardly believe that what I remember from that night was real,_ Janet thought as she wandered aimlessly through the fading, forgotten garden. _But it had to be; dreams don't make girls pregnant, and I most definitely am. And Mr. Faery and I definitely need to have a little chat about that! It's his changeling - so he can raise it. It's time the Fey Folk learned about Women's Lib._

The sun was still fairly high in the sky - it was a least an hour to sunset, but the hike (and the fact that she'd been unable to keep anything down from lunch - _why the hell do they call it **morning** sickness, if you can have it all day?_ she thought crossly) had made her ravenous, and so Janet decided to eat early. _If that means I'm hungry again, well, I'll just have to remember not to touch anything he might offer me,_ she decided as she opened the hamper she brought with her. After devouring the bread and cheese (and even more miraculously, managing to keep it down), she decided to stretch out on the soft leaves and rest. Sunset was still a long ways off, and she sensed there was no point in searching for her Faery any earlier than that. So she stretched out on the carpet of leaves and closed her eyes, and soon slipped into sleep.

When she woke, she was startled to realize that it was night. _I didn't mean to sleep,_ Janet thought in dismay, _only to rest for a bit! How late is it, anyway?_ Clouds covered the sky and a cold wind was blowing, whipping the tree branches back and forth. The air seemed filled with sinister sounds, and suddenly Janet felt nervous. _Why did I ever come here? _she thought, dismayed. Then a wave of fright seemed to sweep throughout her body, and she suddenly knew, inexplicably but with utter certainty, that something evil was approaching. _Hide_, a voice whispered abruptly in her mind, _hide NOW, or it will be too late!_ Without thinking, she dived behind the stone foundation of the decayed house, and sank into the deepest and most sheltered corner of the basement, where she pulled her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them, then closed her eyes tightly and tried as best she could to become invisible.

The feeling of menace kept increasing, until it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming aloud in utter terror - then, abruptly, it faded away, and Janet found herself shaken but unharmed. Slowly she rose up from the earth, searching for a way out of the sunken basement - and froze. Her Faery was there, standing on the opposite wall of the basement, looking down at her - and the glitter in his eyes did not seem friendly. With an inhuman grace, he smoothly jumped down from the foundation wall into the basement, landing almost noiselessly, and quickly walked over to her, stopping just am arm's length away. "Why did you return here?" he said, and she shivered again at the coldness in his voice. _No_, she decided, _not friendly tonight at all._ "You could have been killed," he continued firmly. "Had you not listened to my warning, you would have been. When I first saw you, I thought you merely young and inexperienced - not stupid. I dislike being proved wrong."

"I'm not stupid," Janet replied, angered by the arrogance she heard in his tone "and perhaps you should at least hear my reasons for returning here before you judge me so."

"Why bother?" the Faery man sneered. "I told you before, when we first met, that these woods are no place for a young woman to roam - but you completely disregard not only my explicit warning but your own common sense, and go marching about them as though - "

"I'm pregnant." 

The look of arrogant superiority and condescension on her Faery's face abruptly disappeared, to be replaced by sheer incredulity. After a long moment of waiting, Janet spoke again into the silence. "Well? Don't you have anything to say about it?"

"That's not possible - I'm an Elda and you're one of the Second Children, there's no way - "

"I don't know anything about Faeries and Elda and Second Children, nor do I want to know. I only know that I'm pregnant, and you're **definitely** the father. You're the only... creature... I've ever slept with, this is **your** baby I'm carrying, and I want to know what you're going to do about it," Janet replied firmly, hands on her hips.

"There isn't anything I **can** do about it," the Faery replied. "I would not have lain with you that night had I realized we could beget a child together - but there is nothing I can do to change that now. I'm sorry." He turned and began to walk away.

"Wait a minute," Janet cried out. "That's all you have to say? You think you can just get me pregnant and walk away from it? Just what type of creature are you, that you would do this to me, to your unborn baby?"

"A damned one," the Faery replied softly, without even turning around.

Faeries, Janet remembered Professor Bautista lecturing, were soulless and amoral beings; contact with them was always dangerous, and usually turned out badly for the human involved. So she'd known that it was unlikely her Faery would be willing to help her, but until that moment she had continued to cling to the dim possibility that that would be untrue, that he would somehow use his magic and make things right. The crumbling of that last faint hope was too much for her to bear. She wanted to strangle him, she wanted to make the heartless creature suffer, she... Overwhelmed, she finally began to cry.

She sat down on the firmly packed earthen floor and sobbed as she had not done since she was a small child - and then to her surprise she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders to pull her against a broad chest clothed in softest silk, heard a melodic voice gently singing a calming tune. Her tears gradually slowed, then stopped, and at last she looked up into the face of her Faery. "Surely it's not so bad as all that, little one," he spoke gently. "It's the way of things for a woman to quicken and bear children, after all. You must have a family who can help you raise the babe..."

"I can't - I **won't** - go home to my parents. They don't approve of young women who have sex before they're married - not at all. They'll probably throw me out on the street - or make me put the baby up for adoption. I won't bear this child only to give it up to strangers!"

"Surely your parents would not be so heartless?" the Faery replied, but Janet could hear the thin strand of doubt in his voice.

"Oh, yes, they would be," she replied. "And I'm not finished with my education yet - I can't stay in school without **someone** helping me care for the baby, and if I drop out now, I won't even be able to support myself, much less a child. That's why I need your help. You're the father, after all, and I can't believe you'd hurt your own child, and I was hoping that you could help me raise the baby at least until I could finish school..."

"NO!" the Faery shouted; Janet jumped back, alarmed. "Believe me, I would help you if I could - but I cannot take the child," he continued gently, a look of great sorrow clouding his not-quite-human features. "My Mistress is cruel - you have no idea how cruel - and she would eventually find out. No innocent babe deserves the misery She would delight in inflicting on it. I dare not take the baby. I am sorry, truly I am, but there is nothing I can do to help you."

"If your mistress is so cruel, why don't you leave her?" Janet asked. "You're a Faery - can't you just use your magic to... "

The Faery's chuckle was bleak. "Leave my Mistress? Do you think I have not already tried that? I am an Elda, the mightiest of my kind - but I have found to my everlasting sorrow that her webs are far too strong for even my power to break. No, I am condemned to remain in her lair until the stars themselves go out - and then, with her, I will be swept away into the Darkness Everlasting. Help you, little mortal? How can I, when I am powerless even to help myself?"

"If you **were **free to leave her, would you help me then?" Janet asked softly.

"Yes," the Faery replied. "Once I might have acted otherwise; I was arrogant and cruel, blinded by my own selfish desires. The needs of a mere mortal would have mattered not at all to me then. But I have had long years of darkness in which to repent of my wickedness and my folly, and I have changed. I would help you, were I free to do so."

"Well, then," Janet said decisively, "that settles things. I'll just have to find a way to set you free. Then you'll be able to help me raise the baby and - " She broke off, confused, as her Faery began to laugh. Not a gentle laughter, no, but great roars of mirth that bent him over double. She simply sat and watched, waiting patiently until he slowly brought himself under control again. Finally, he began to gasp in between his laughs, "**You**... will... free... me?" 

Janet made no reply; finally the Faery, laughter stilled at last, simply put his face in his hands. "I don't see what you found so funny about my decision; I'm quite certain that there must be **some** way to set you free, I only have to find it... "

The Faery looked up again, and told her simply, "You felt but a small taste of my Mistress's power earlier this evening - and you were unable then to stand against it. What makes you think that you, a frail mortal woman, can find a source of power that will be able to challenge **that**?"

"I don't know if I can - but I've got nothing to lose by trying. And neither do you, if what you've told me is true. So why not try?" To that the Faery made no reply. Suddenly, she felt him tense, and a look of pain came over his fair face. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"The morning star has risen over the treetops, and the Sun will soon come up; the Queen of these woods is summoning me home," he replied sadly; he was looking east, where Venus had just cleared the tangled branches of the treetops, and to her surprise, Janet saw a tear streak slowly down his cheek. She gently reached over to wipe it away.

__

We need each other, she realized in dawning wonder_. Alone, neither of us can find our way out of our respective traps. Perhaps it is some strange design of Fate that brought us together?_ Aloud, she only said, "I promise you, I'll find a way to set you free, somehow. But that will have to wait until later. For now, help me climb out of this hole."

The first pale rays of dawn were beginning to streak the sky when Janet and her Faery emerged from the ruins; the Faery seemed to wince as the soft light touched his face. _It burns him,_ she thought. _Like cold iron... _"Would cold iron work against your Mistress, I wonder? Or silver?" she said as she stepped back onto the path leading out of the forest.

"No," he replied.

"Don't worry," she said, and surprised him by placing a gentle kiss onto his cheek. "So cold iron and silver won't work; that doesn't mean that nothing else will. It may be a bit before I come back - I don't know how long it's going to take me to find the solution - but I **will** return for you, I promise. Be patient - but be ready to act the next time you see me." The Faery made no reply, but Janet saw the skepticism in his eyes.

"Farewell," he said at last - and then stepping into the shadows under the trees, he simply seemed to vanish.

__

How did he do that? she wondered; and then she turned and began the long walk back to campus. Not to her dorm room - no, she needed to visit the Library. She had research to do. 

(To Be Continued)


	3. What Rough Magic

This story is for Cirdan - Happy Birthday! Thanks go to Dwimordene, for suggesting the idea for this story, and to Deborah, for all sorts of reasons.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own any of the characters, several of which are gratefully borrowed from Professor Tolkien, who would doubtless be bemused at this particular use of them!

****

Of Leaves of Gold and Petals Red: A Faery Tale 

By Ithilwen

****

Chapter 3 - What Rough Magic...

The weeks passed; the snows fell and melted, and fell again. Finals came and went, the holidays flew by in a colorful blur of lights and music, and the spring semester had begun and was now well under way. Janet found herself carrying a double load, coursework for her classes, and her own private project, hunting for something, **anything**, that might provide the clue she needed. Her pregnancy was certainly starting to show; so far, to everyone but Deborah she'd somehow managed to pass it off as the inevitable consequences of so much starchy cafeteria food - but she knew that she was rapidly running out of time.

__

There has to be a solution, I **know** there is, she found herself thinking, over and over. _Fate wouldn't have brought the Faery and me together otherwise, I'm certain of that. I just have to see it. Why can't I see it? It's probably something right under my nose..._

Actually, it turned out that the solution was just above her nose - on her bookshelf above her study desk, to be precise. Most of the other freshman had taken their first semester texts to the campus bookstore to re-sell them, but Janet had decided to hold on to hers for a bit. She hadn't chosen her major yet; some of those books might be useful later, and she was not so short of money that she couldn't afford to keep them for another semester or two. One day, reaching up to grab a book, she somehow managed to tip the shelf - and the whole mass of books came tumbling off, landing in a disordered heap on the floor. _So, it's going to be one of those days,_ she thought resignedly as she knelt to pick them back up_. First it's the books; next, it will probably be the hard drive on my PC crashing..._ And then she stopped, hand hovering over one book that had landed face up and open - her copy of "An Anthology of Classic Fairy Tales," which had somehow managed to land with the pages turned to the very beginning of one of the few stories Professor Bautista has not chosen as an assigned reading. "Tam Lin," the title said. _Could this be a sign?_ Janet wondered. _I've spend so many hours poking through those musty library stacks; is it possible that what I need to discover has been sitting here in my dorm room all this time?_ Ignoring for the moment the remaining books spilled across the floor, she sprawled out on her bed and quickly began to read.

* * * * * * *

The snow had completely melted, but the weather was still raw, and Janet shivered as she walked along the path. Her hands were tucked away under the green cloak - perhaps not the most practical garment for this time of year, Janet conceded, but having worn it the previous two times she had made this journey, she felt strangely loathe to part with it now - tightly grasping the basket she carried. She'd underestimated how much her pregnancy would slow her down, saying to herself that she wasn't **that** large yet, which was true. But large or not, she found herself tiring more quickly now, and had had to stop and rest several times along the way. Now she looked at the sky in mild alarm. It was growing late - and she wanted to be in the clearing well before the sun went down, she had preparations to make if she was to rescue her Faery...

__

I suppose I should set up next to the rose garden, she decided when she arrived at last. At least the thorny branches might serve as crude weapons, if her plan failed. _Who am I trying to kid? _she admitted to herself as she began to sweep the rotting leaves aside, baring a large area of moist earth. _If this doesn't work, I'm dead - or worse than dead. It will work! It has to! God wouldn't be so cruel..._

Once she'd scraped a large circle of ground reasonably bare, she walked over to the basket she'd set down earlier, and brought it over to center of the circle. From it, she drew out a stoppered bottle, carefully uncorked it, and poured its contents along the edge of the circle. Then she placed the bottle back into the basket and drew out a necklace. Janet gently touched the silver cross dangling from its chain - a gift from her now-dead grandmother, it had been - then suddenly slipped the necklace on over her head. _Well,_ she thought, _I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Now there's nothing to do but wait._

Earlier, the sun had seemed to be racing towards the horizon - now, it barely crawled down from the sky. _Move, damn it! _ Janet demanded. _I'm nervous enough already!_ As the light began to fade and the shadows started to lengthen, she began to look around to see if her Faery was anywhere in evidence. No sign of him yet. Signing, she decided to sit down for a while - it had been late each time he'd come to her before, perhaps he couldn't appear before the witching hour arrived, or something? _Cinderfella, who stays trapped inside a pumpkin until the stoke of midnight, when he's transformed into a Faery again?_ She found herself grinning at the image, trying to imagine him folding that long, lanky frame into one of those giant pumpkins she'd seen at the county fair. _Not very likely, _she conceded, _but it **is** an amusing thought._

The hours slowly passed; the heavens went from indigo to deep black, and the stars wheeled slowly overhead. Janet began to grow alarmed. Perhaps her Faery didn't know she was here? She stood up again, and began to look around. Still no sign of him. "Hey," she began to shout, then stopped. _I don't even know his name!_ she realized, startled. _Assuming, of course that he even has one; surely even the Fey Folk have to have names? He deflowered me, I'm carrying his baby, here I am standing out here in this freezing weather, risking my life (or at least risking pneumonia) to save him from his evil Mistress - and I don't even know what name to call him by! Janet, my girl, you're definitely certifiable._ She took a deep breath, and shouted again, louder this time. "Hey, Mr. Faery - I'm over here! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Hey, Faery, get over here now!"

And suddenly, she felt it - that sharp rush of terror she'd felt the last time she entered these woods. The Faery Queen, the Mistress of the Woods, the Blair Witch - whatever - was moving, and it was definitely headed her way. Her heart began to race, and she hurriedly wiped her hands clean of sweat on the fine wool of her cloak. Whatever happened, she knew, she mustn't lose her grip...

And suddenly he was there, seemingly coming out of nowhere. "How do you **do** that?" she asked him as she took his hand and pulled him into the circle, then threw her arms tightly around him.

"What are you doing, woman?" the Faery sputtered. "Have you lost your wits? Little one, She is coming here - run and hide while you still have the time to escape!"

"Hold still!" Janet commanded sharply as the Faery began to struggle loose. "I'm not going anywhere! Listen to me - I know what I'm doing, I know how to get you out of here. I found out from an omen. But I've got to hold on to you to save us all - so stop fighting me!" To her surprise, he did stop, and looked at her with a strange expression on his face. "That's better," she said.

"An omen," the Faery breathed softly. "Such things are very rare now; seldom do the Valar reach forth to touch these faded lands, and of the One I dare not even speak... Perhaps you did receive such a gift - but can either of us be sure? How do you know that what you're planning to do will work?" he said, more calmly now. "Listen to me; I know more of such things than you can possibly understand. This is too dangerous to you. Leave me here, and save yourself while you still can."

"No," Janet replied. "My baby needs a father, and I need a husband - or at least a reliable babysitter while I'm in class, and they're not easy to find. So I'm staying until you can come with me. Besides," she said as she looked over his shoulder at the dark shape slowly emerging from beneath the trees, "it's too late now." She felt her Faery stiffen in her arms as she uttered those words, and clung to him all the tighter.

__

No to silver, no to cold iron - but a big can of Raid might just have done the trick, she thought, half hysterical, as she watched the disgusting creature come forth. She'd been expecting something similar to her Faery, a glittering, pale, deadly woman, a Queen - not this monstrous, bloated spider. "Go away," she tried to shout, but the words came out more like a squeak. "He's mine now - and I won't give him back!" She felt the Faery shivering in her arms.

*Will you not?* a soft, repellent voice whispered within her mind. *And how will you prevent me from simply plucking him from your arms?* The creature swelled in size and moved closer, two of its dark, gangly legs reaching out towards them - and then it stopped abruptly, and the foul voice in her mind hissed in rage.

"I'm not the one who will stop you," Janet replied. "I don't have that kind of power. But the One who made me, and Who died to redeem my sins, does. The circle's drawn with holy water; you cannot cross it. Now, go away!"

*Perhaps I cannot cross - but my slave can, and will, when I call to him,* the horrid voice said. *Long ago, he turned his back on his Creator - and so he was given to me to be my toy, a damned thing, forgotten by his Maker. Come, little smith, my forger of tidbits, it's time to return to my side. I promise I won't hurt you **too** badly for this transgression - provided you pleasure me tonight. I know how much you hate that...*

Janet felt the Faery's trembling becoming more violent, and she squeezed her arms around him as tightly as she could. "Don't listen to her," she whispered into his ear. "I've got you now, and I'm not letting you go anywhere. She can do nothing to you so long as you stay within the circle."

*Can I not?* the voice whispered again. *Perhaps I can no longer compel his will, which I did not fashion - but **I** constructed that body he now wears, molding it from the raw earth. My power flows through his veins; we are connected through the earth itself on which we both stand, he and I. His form is still mine to shape, and mine to hurt. He will come to me in the end, to stop the pain - and you will be helpless to prevent it.* The hideous spider swayed gently, rocking back and forth as though weaving a web of air - and suddenly the Faery in her arms screamed in agony.

"Stop it! Stop hurting him!" Janet shouted back at the spider, as she rocked the screaming Faery in her arms like a child. "It's pointless - you can't have him back, because I won't let him go. Give it up, and go away!"

*You cannot keep what you cannot hold,* the spider replied. And then it was Janet's turn to scream in terror, as the form in her arms suddenly dissolved; the figure of the not-quite-man flowing into a huge snake. _A rattlesnake,_ Janet thought in terror, _oh_ _my God, she's turned him into a rattlesnake! _The snake rattled, hissed, and struck, narrowly missing her face; struggling mightily, Janet managed to keep her hold on the supple body, sliding her hands up the rough scales until her grip rested just below the snake's head, and she could control it. "You lose, Ugly!" she shouted. "I can hold this, all night if I have to! I'm not letting go!"

*Are you not?* the spider replied, and the snake began to writhe desperately, the head swelling and becoming golden, a shaggy black mane sprouting from the neck, entangling her hands. Limbs sprouted from the scaly body, ending in great velvet paws studded with lethal claws. The lion roared; Janet's hands were no longer wide enough to choke off its air. She had it by the mane, and the great beast pulled back hard and clawed the air, swatting her with its massive paws, trying desperately to loosen her grip - but never actually striking her with its claws_. He doesn't want to harm me!_ Janet realized suddenly. _Whatever the creature in my hands may look like, inside he's still my Faery. That spider's hurting him terribly, and he wants to pull free, so he can go to her and make the pain stop - but he won't hurt me to do it. _"Two strikes!" Janet called out. "Give it up - no matter what you turn him into, I'm not letting go!"

*No matter **what** I turn him into? Very well,* the spider chuckled in Janet's mind. *You will have no trouble holding on to his very essence, then...*

And Janet screamed again - this time in pain, as the lion suddenly burst into flames, and she found her hands sinking into a blazing fire. Shutting her eyes, she forced her hands to plunge in deeper, heedless of the pain she felt. _There **has** to be something solid in there somewhere to grasp, _she told herself desperately, _a fire can't burn on nothing!_ Finally she felt it, a log, and forced herself to take it into her hands and hold it tight. She opened her eyes - and saw that, despite the agony she was feeling, her arms remained unblistered and her hands unburned, buried though they were in the very heart of the flames. _This isn't a real fire,_ she said over and over to herself_, it's just my Faery. It hurts, but it cannot truly harm me. Hang on, Janet, hang on! _But the pain continued to grow, despite her desperate chant, and she knew she was reaching the end of her strength at last. The horrible spider was going to win - for she could not hold onto this much longer, and she knew that when she let him go he would leave the circle, and the spider-thing would pluck him away.

Finally, in despair, she began to loosen her grip, desperate to make the agony stop. _I'm sorry, Faery,_ she thought sadly. _I've failed us both, and now we're both going to die because of it. I cannot hold onto you any longer - **I can't**! Forgive me._ The spider roared in triumph in Janet's mind - and in that instant, Venus rose over the treetops. The roar of triumph changed abruptly into a howl of pain, and the bloated monstrosity shrank back into the trees, desperately seeking the shadows. The fierce burning in her hands abruptly ceased - and Janet found her arms filled again with Faery. Naked, his eyes closed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead, he staggered and slumped against her. "Rest now," she whispered to him as she saw the first pink rays of the dawn begin to light the eastern sky beneath the brilliant morning star, "I think it's over."

The spider was barely visible now, scuttling rapidly away beneath the thin canopy of the still-bare tree branches. *The hated light is breaking now; you're free to claim your prize. Had I known his love would lead to this, I'd have torn out both his eyes.* And then the horrid thing was gone, and Janet found herself standing in the quiet woods, her lover in her arms, watching the sun rise. 

The Faery shivered slightly. "You must be freezing," she said, pulling him closer so she could wrap her cloak around his body. For the first time since he'd regained his form, he opened his eyes, and Janet nearly gasped when she saw the new brightness glittering there.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I never believed that you could actually do it. You can have no idea of how it feels, after so long in darkness, to be able to stand here in the sunlight without feeling pain, to be able to touch, or not touch, another person according to **my** preferences, to go where I will... To be free. There is nothing I could ever do that would even come close to repaying you for what you have done for me - " The Faery abruptly paused, seemingly startled. "I do not believe I even know your name," he continued, bemused.

"Well, we're even, then - I don't know yours, either," Janet laughed. "Call me Janet."

He nodded solemnly. "Janet," he said slowly, as though savoring the way her name rolled off his tongue. "Janet. A mortal name, I presume? I've not heard it before."

"Yes," she replied. "And your name is..."

"Fëanor," he replied. "My name is Fëanor."

"What kind of a name is that?"

"A very old one, and one that was once honored greatly among my people before it fell into darkness. It means 'Spirit of Fire' - and if I now blaze again, it is only because of you," the Faery (_no, not the Faery! _Janet scolded herself silently. _ Fëanor. I must get used to thinking of him by his name._) answered laughingly.

Janet looked into his eyes again, seeing him clearly for the first time, sensing the flames leaping up behind those glittering grey orbs, hot and eager - and suddenly pictured in her mind her own face, dull eyes so different from his glittering ones, her skin blotchy and rough next to his pale perfection, her coarse hair the color of dishwater in contrast to his silky raven locks. _Spirit of Fire, Fëanor - I will turn him into his very essence, that's what that spider said. What would a living flame ever see in a clod of earth like me? That spider was right - I cannot hold him. I have no **right** to hold him -I can see now that it would be a monstrous wrong to bind such a one as this unwillingly to my side. After all, our joining was mutual. I chose it, even more than he did - it's only right that I should suffer the consequences of my choice in the end,_ Janet decided sadly. "I think it's time to go now," she said.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going back to my dorm. You - well, how could I know where you might choose to go? You said it yourself - you're free now. Go where you will," Janet replied quietly.

"You mean you do not wish me to stay with you? To help you raise our son?" Fëanor responded, puzzlement in his face.

"I told you, you're... Wait a minute. 'Our son'? Not 'your son'?" Janet felt her heart leap; it took a great deal of will to calmly ask the next question. "You mean you **want** to be with me? Even though I can't make you stay?"

Fëanor nodded, then gently placed his hands on Janet's round belly. "Surely you did not think I would abandon my wife and child to such a harsh fate as the one you previously described to me?"

__

"My wife," he said... He actually called me his wife! I don't believe it. "You don't have to marry me, you know," Janet forced herself to say.

"By my people's reckoning, we are already married. I know it is not the same with yours," Fëanor said, "but that does not matter now. I am an Elda, and will hold to the ways of my people, so in my eyes you are my wife. And I would very much like to stay, if you will let me do so, and raise my son. It has been a long time since I've held an infant in my arms; one of the simpler pleasures in life, true, but often those are the most satisfying in the end. And I am mortal now, in a manner of speaking. Ungoliant's - the spider's -" he explained, seeing her confusion, "hold on me may be broken, but the poison she injected into me so often during my long enslavement has done its work. Without her magic supporting it, this body will fade rapidly, and fail - and I will be a naked spirit again, doomed to face Mandos' judgement for a second time. Janet, I did great evil in my past. Will you not help me to balance that with at least a little good? Please - let me stay."

"You mean Ung... Ungla... that spider's poison is still inside you? That you're going to **die **soon?" Janet exclaimed in horror. "Then all this was for nothing!"

"No," Fëanor responded firmly, "that is not true. Yes, I will die very soon - perhaps in 70 years, certainly no longer than 100 - but that is no matter. The time I have left is more than enough to do what I need to do before I face my judgment. And I have been dead before; I know what to expect, and so it does not frighten me as it does you. What matters now is not my coming death, but what I do with what is left of my life."

"You've been dead before? You're not just making up tales?" Janet looked at him with wide eyes. "You really **are** a Faery."

Fëanor laughed, and at the sound of his voice Janet suddenly felt her own heart lighten, and she found herself laughing alongside him. When she finished, she reached up and stripped off her cloak. "Here," she said to him as she handed over the cloak. "Slip this on. I know it's too short but I can't take you into town naked. I think before we go back to campus, I'd better stop and buy you some proper clothes."

"Then I can come with you? You will let me stay?"

"Yes."

They walked together slowly beneath the trees, down the now-familiar path. "You said 'my son'," Janet remarked after they'd been walking for a while; she could see the edge of the forest a short distance away. "How do you know that our baby is going to be a boy?"

"My children are always boys," Fëanor replied simply.

"You have other children? You've been married before?"

"Yes. Long ago, before I died for the first time. Seven sons," he said sadly. "All lost to me now. I don't want to lose this one, too."

"You won't," Janet promised. _Seven sons. Of course, that **would** be the number - he **is** a Faery, after all._ "I guess we should start thinking about names."

"Is there any name in particular you favor?" Fëanor asked.

"Allen," Janet said. "If it is a boy, I'd like to call him Allen. If that's O.K. with you."

Fëanor nodded silently, in wordless approval. They'd finally reached the end of the path; Janet reached over and took her Faery's hand into her own, and together they stepped out of the dappled woods and into the bright, clean sunlight of the mortal world.

Notes: 

This story is actually an adaptation of the old Scottish folk ballad "Tam Lin," which describes a mortal woman's struggle to save her lover from the clutches of the evil Fairy Queen. There are many different versions of this old ballad, and I've quite liberally borrowed from many of them. To learn more about "Tam Lin," I highly recommend checking out www.tam-lin.org A heartfelt thanks goes to Dwimordene for providing both the link and the original idea that lead to this story.

Janet's baby's name: "Allen" is of Celtic derivation, and means "handsome one." It somehow seemed an appropriate mother-name for Fëanor's firstborn son by his second wife...

This story was first published in November, 2002.


End file.
